


Rolling Thunder

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Non-Consensual Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2066985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was early for practise only ‘cause he had nowhere else to go, and might as well be at the gym. And he’d thought he’d be alone so he could sit down, sip some water and get a handle on his thoughts. Pulling the bottle out of his bag, he raised it to his lips, hoping the persistent voice behind him would take the hint: Nishinoya Yuu wasn’t in the mood today.</p><p>But Hinata had other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rolling Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt on the tumblr blog @imaginethehaikyuukids. 
> 
> The prompt was:
> 
> IMAGINE NOYA TEACHING HINATA ROLLING RECEIVE AND THEY END UP ROLLING AROUND AND GENERALLY CUDDLING AND BEING CUTE WITH NOSES NEARLY TOUCHING AS THE TEAM WALKS IN LIKE ….?

_(It isn’t right.)_

“Teach me!”

“Huh?”

“Rolling Thunder!  Teach me!”

Sat on the steps outside the gym, Nishinoya didn’t turn his head. He was tired and out of sorts. Three teachers had thrown homework back at him saying it had to be done again (that was a record) and with another problem plaguing him, he was, for once, depleted of his excess energy and enthusiasm.

_(Right?  Who cares what people think?)_

He was early for practise only ‘cause he had nowhere else to go, and might as well be at the gym. And he’d thought he’d be alone so he could sit down, sip some water and get a handle on his thoughts. Pulling the bottle out of his bag, he raised it to his lips, hoping the persistent voice behind him would take the hint: Nishinoya Yuu wasn’t in the mood today.

_(I do.)_

But then he felt a tug on his sleeve. “Nishinoya-senpai. Teach me. Teach me. PLEASE!”

_(Why?)_

“Hinata-kun,” he began, sounding sharp as he swatted him away. “We can’t get into the gym.”

The excuse sounded pathetic. Hell, it was pathetic, but Noya was pissed off, and if Hinata couldn’t get that -

“PLEEEASE!  Rolling Thunder! On the grass,” demanded Hinata, his voice scaling several octaves in his eagerness.

The mistake was looking at him. Noya felt sure that if he’d stared straight ahead, concentrated on sipping his water, then he could have held out. But Hinata had such big eyes, and sticky out orange hair, and a huge beam of a smile that it was like staring right into the sun. Dazzling, but utterly warming.

_(I just ... can’t.)_

“Senpai?”

Noya took another sip, trying to hold out. “Can’t without a ball ...” He trailed off as Hinata’s smile beamed even wider. “You have a ball, doncha,” he said, and almost laughed, ‘cause of course Hinata would have a ball.

“Yes, yes, I have a ball.” Hinata loped off to the tree where he’d left his bike, and pulled a ball out of the basket. “I was practising with Kageyama at lunchtime, but we only did tosses and strikes. I need to practise receives. I need to get better. I have to improve. I have to-”

Recognising he was up against an unstoppable force, and feeling his own enthusiasm return (dammit, Hinata did this to everyone!) Noya chucked his empty bottle back in his bag, stripped off his jacket and jumped down the steps.

“Get ready then!”he cried as Hinata gabbled and leapt all over the grass. “Listen and watch your senpai, Hinata–kun!

“First, you gotta be able to roll, okay?” Hinata dropped to the floor and started rolling, or lolling really, his arms and legs scrabbling on the ground like a crab.

“No, roll properly! Keep your eyes open, and your arms need to be flexible, or you’ll ... Aw, Jeez, Hinata! Watch me.”

As if recovering a block, Noya dived to the ground, his arms stretched dead ahead, his eyes fully focused. Then, as soon as he made contact with the grass, he rolled. “See the difference?”

Hinata’s eyes were round. “So fast!”

“Uh-huh, and you need to keep your eyes opened and focused, ‘cause that ball’s comin’ at ya, and you’re the only person that can get it, ‘k?” He stood up. “Serve at me, yeah? Everything you got.”

Nodding, Hinata picked up the ball and ran to the edge of the grass. Hurling the ball in the air, he served wildly, trying to use as much power as possible.  It wasn’t a great serve (it was Hinata after all) but Noya was counting on the clumsiness, the inaccuracy, and the lack of force, ‘cause sometimes those were the serves he had the problem with. If the server had no idea where the ball was going, then no one else did, either. 

“Sorry,” Hinata cried as, true to form, the ball shied away from Noya.

He barely heard. His instincts sharp, Noya ducked to the grass, shooting his hands out in front of him, and furrowed across the hard, dusty ground.

“THUNDERRRRR!”

 Tipping the ball up to the sky, he shot back to standing in one fluid movement, grinning as Hinata now bounded forwards.

“Awesome!”

“It’s all in the roll, Hinata-kun, so get on that grass and start now!”

“THUUUNDERRRR!” yelled Hinata, scrambling to the ground. “Throw me the ball.”

“Hey!” Noya bounced the ball on top of Hinata’s head. “You can’t ‘thunder’ ‘til you’ve rolled.”

Tanaka would have laughed. Tsukishima would have scoffed. Daichi and Suga would’ve let him get on with it. Kageyama would have nodded and concentrated -geniuses had their own methods, after all. And... Noya scowled and focused on Hinata, who accepted, wholeheartedly, that Noya’s teaching was correct. Screwing up his face, almost squeaking with the excitement of it all, he rolled again, over and over, his feet kicking up dust as he swathed through the dry grass.

And then, just as Noya was about to throw the ball, Hinata laughed. It was less a laugh, and more a gurgle, high and lilting. A sound that told everyone he was having fun. That all was right in his world.

_(It isn’t right!)_

“Screw right!”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” Noya crouched over him, wrenched out a tuft of grass, and threw it at Hinata. “Don’t laugh, Hinata-kun. That’s an order ...” he rolled closer  and winked, “... from your senpai!”

“It’s the grass,” Hinata protested, and then he sneezed.

“NO LAUGHING!” roared Noya. He tried to look stern, but Hinata’s attempts to _not_ laugh as well as stifle another sneeze, were making it increasingly difficult to scowl in the way a proper senpai should.

And that laugh. Intoxicating, infectious _, irrepressible._ Guaranteed to chase away the clouds, burn through to leave everything clear in his mind’s sky.

“You need ‘how-not-to-laugh’ lessons,” Noya whispered, his eyes gleaming. He wiggled his fingers. “Imagine Daichi-san really angry.”

“Uh ...” Hinata’s shoulders started to shake and his tummy made little hiccup movements.

“Don’t laugh. Whatever you do, Hinata-kun. You can’t laugh, or the Captain will yell.”

His hands hovered over Hinata’s stomach, his fingers flexed. Hinata giggled. “No, no! Daichi will shout.”

“Hahahahahahahah – stop iiiiiit!” Hinata shrieked.

“I’m not even touching you!” Noya mocked, and made his fingers dance in the air around Hinata’s tummy. “Daichi’s angry!”

“Ha ha ha – that won’t work!” Hinata wriggled away, lying on his stomach, gulping at the air until he was calm. Then he propped himself up on his elbows. “Captain-san doesn’t scare me.”

“Liar!”

“Not as much as Kageyama,” he qualified.

Snorting, Noya shuffled closer. “He’s a jerk.”

“He’s a genius!”

“Pfft. He’s still a jerk.”

Hinata was silent, a frown creasing his brow. He picked at a weed poking its head above the ground. All at once, it seemed like the sun had gone in.

“What’s up?” Noya lay on his back alongside Hinata.

Hinata shrugged. It was obvious he had something on his mind but had decided to keep it to himself. However, Noya knew (they were so much alike when he thought about it) that Hinata wanted to tell, needed to confide. Maybe he’d turned up here early to talk to Suga, but had ended up with Noya.

 _And I’m his senpai,_ he thought. _It’s my duty to do more than buy the odd popsicle._

“Spill, Hinata-kun,” he said, and poked him on his waist.

Didn’t take much, Hinata turned his face towards Noya, his mouth downturned – not smiling, not angry, but sad. “Do I piss you off?”

“Huh?”

“Like-” Hinata blinked and started to lick his lips, chewing the bottom one. “Like I pester you to show me stuff, and Kageyama says I shouldn’t keep going on about things.  He says I should practice serves, and stuff like that, and not keep trying to be everyone else’s position ‘cept my own, and that-”

“What does he know?” Noya spat.  With his hand, he plucked Hinata’s sleeve, feeling absurdly protective and furious all at once. “He’s a Setter. He knows what he is, just as I know I’m a Libero. You’re ... uh ... you’re a Decoy, a Spiker, a Blocker, a ... Hinata – you jump, you run, you get the crowd excited.” He grinned. “You’re just like me. And you know what?”

“What?”

“We’re awesome!”

“You are.” Hinata’s nose wrinkled. “I still wanna be an ace – like Asahi-san.”

Noya released him, and rolled away. “You’re nothing like him.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t have the height, or the power, or the accuracy, and the scariness. I don’t have that, but I want it. I wanna be the best, and that’s why I gotta practise and learn everything.”

“You have heart and courage and _guts_ ,” Noya muttered. “And that’s what matters.”  He swallowed, and then slowly tipped back towards Hinata, who was staring at him with a curious expression on his face.

 “Our Ace has courage,” Hinata replied, sounding faintly puzzled. “And guts. And heart. He came back, didn’t he? And when he spikes, it’s like ‘Gah’ and ‘Fwoosh’ and ‘Thunk’.”

Noya gritted his teeth.   “Yeah, sure. Come on, back to practise.”

“It is. It is!” Hinata got to his knees, his eyes huge with excitement, and started bouncing up and down. “And we’re gonna go to Nationals, and –”

“PRACTISE!” Noya shouted, but as he got up, Hinata, still carried away with his own enthusiasm, shot forwards into a roll and knocked into him.

Sprawled on his back, with a wriggling, unsteady Hinata on top of him, Noya placed his hands on Hinata’s chest, ready to heave him off. But Hinata’s shocked his expression, the automatic ‘sorry’ on his lips, stayed the action. Instead, he lowered his hands to Hinata’s waist, grinned and said, “No laughing, kouhai.”

“No, noooooooo,” shrieked Hinata as Noya’s fingers began to tickle, digging in at the waist, to find the soft, barely- muscled, torso.

He flipped him over, but that movement, that moment when he stopped tickling was enough. And now it was Noya roaring with laughter, Noya pleading for mercy, Noya helpless, breathless, and Hinata shouting, “Don’t laugh. Mustn’t laugh, Noya-senpai. Captain-san will be angry. Suga-san will be angry. Don’t laugh. Asahi-san-”

Noya opened his eyes, desperate to get away, to not think. But Hinata was relentless, and Noya could not stop the laugh, which was so close to a sob, wracking through his body.

Their noses touched.

Both stopped moving.

Both stared at the other.

Eyes widened. One set curious. The other burning.

And for an infinitesimally small quarter of a second, Noya parted his lips.

 

“Uh ... don’t mind us.”

Three figures loomed, their shadows casting long in the late afternoon sun, making them seem taller, much taller than they usually were. The broad figure in front, with a smile on his face, dropped his kit bag on the ground, then picked Hinata up by the scruff of his neck.

“Captain-san!” gasped Hinata, his face, already pink from exertion, now flushing a deeper shade of puce.

And it would have been funny. Noya would have laughed louder than anyone, as Hinata spluttered to explain because whatever it looked like, Noya didn’t care. He was the Libero; he took whatever was thrown at him, and returned with intent.

Yeah, it would have been funny, especially as Suga was trying but failing to keep a straight face, and Kageyama was running towards them, furious that Hinata had got to practise way before him.

But one player wasn’t laughing. One of the figures had stepped back, a fumbling footfall the only sign that he was _not_ okay. Noya glared up at him, met the brown eyes that a few days ago had been regretful, but were now confused and hurt as he turned away.

 

_(Why Rolling Thunder?_

_‘Cause of you._

_Huh?_

_You run and jump to spike, and there’s thunder. You power that ball over the net, and there’s thunder._

_There’s  thunder pounding my head when we’re alone._

_Don’t._

_The thunder when we kissed._

_Stop it!_

_And when I place my head on your chest and listen to your heart thumping..._

_It isn’t right._

_There’s thunder rolling between us, Asahi. Why’s that wrong?)_


End file.
